


Hi

by yeaka



Series: Random Roleswaps [12]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 23:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16820482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prince Prompto anxiously attempts a friend.





	Hi

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This series is just random FFXV roleswaps; lemme know if you want one.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The bell rings, and Prompto’s _so_ not ready. He watches the teacher sink into her desk with prickling detachment, his peers loudly clambering out of their chairs and shouldering their bags. The crowd busily chats within itself, one or two lingering looks thrown at Prompto, but not as many as the day he first set foot in school. Over the course of his elementary years, his classmates slowly learned that their disingenuous attempts to ingratiate themselves to him only made him withdraw further. He’s not a natural introvert—he doesn’t _want_ to be alone and friendless. But then, maybe that’s not the reason they’re staring anymore—maybe they’re all shocked that their once overweight prince showed up for his first day of high school skinny as a stick. It couldn’t be their first sight of his new physique—the paparazzi loved flashing pictures of him running or training with his shield. But the tabloids also loved to laugh at his attempts and promise he’d gain it all back in no time, living a rich, cushy life where servants could wait on him hand and food.

Prompto didn’t gain it back. He stuck to Gladiolus’ workout routines and Ignis’ dietary restrictions with a will of steel. Whenever he felt his resolve slipping, he remembered the reason he started in the first place. It’s the reason his hands are shaking now. They’re hidden underneath the desk, clutching to his knees. His nerves must be all over his face, making him imminently unapproachable, because the girls that hesitate near him ultimately leave without a word. The classroom empties out to just three people: the ball of awkward energy that is Prompto, the tired-looking teacher now slumped over her notes, and a young man that grew up _way_ too hot.

He was cute in elementary school. But in a ‘he looks like he’s a real teddy bear underneath that solemn frown’ kinda way. Now Noctis Caelum looks like a teenage heartthrob that has Prompto’s pulse through the roof. He even told Ignis about it over lunch. He’d proudly told his retainer that today would be the day: he’d approach the boy he’s had his eye on for years, the only other one who looks as lonely as he is. He’d make a real _friend_ , one not on the Crown’s payroll. Then lunch break rolled around and Prompto chickened out, frantically texting Ignis: _Shit, he’s hot!_

Ignis had casually replied: _Perhaps this Noct needs a good ice-breaker to cool him down._

Prompto had groaned and slumped against the wall of the building, hidden around the corner, shaking and feeling stupid. He didn’t approach Noctis. Class resumed, schedules were given, homework was assigned, and Prompto completely spaced out thinking of friendly conversation starters. Or trying to.

Now school’s over for the day, and Noctis is standing up, and Prompto almost knocks his desk over in his rush to do the same. He grabs his bag and follows as Noctis wanders out into the hall, trudging slowly past the sea of peers. Noctis’ pace is nonchalant, his posture relaxed. He looks so _cool_. His black hair is somehow both perfectly brushed and attractively mussed. His new uniform clings to his trim frame like a glove. He takes a right and heads down some stairs, then exits out into the courtyard, which is mercifully clear.

Something comes over Prompto, and he sucks in a breath and _goes for it_ : he hurries up to Noctis and reaches out to clasp his shoulder. Noctis jolts and looks back.

His clear eyes take Prompto’s breath away. Prompto forces out a wide grin anyway. He greets, “Hey, Noctis, right?”

“Yeah,” Noctis grunts, without any trace of _your highness_. That alone makes him better than everyone else in their grade. Prompto _knew_ he’d be _just right._

Thrusting out a hand, Prompto says, “Prompto,” even though Noctis has to know the name of his prince. It’s just establishing a form of address. Noctis glances down at his hand, then takes it, shaking it once and falling away.

Noctis doesn’t say anything else, which is fair—Prompto’s the one that jumped him. So Prompto blurts out the first thing that comes into his head: “D’you play King’s Knight?”

Slowly, a subtle smile stretches over Noctis’ lips. He looks even better when he smiles, and it has a warm, personal quality to it: something worth more because it’s well earned. “Yeah. Why? You need someone to kick your ass in it?”

No; Ignis does that enough. But teasing’s a good sign. A very good sign. Prompto risks elbowing Noctis’ side, even though he knows it’s already too familiar, and counters, “Nah; I need someone to cream.”

“Then my friend code won’t be any good to you.”

“Try me?”

Noctis looks at him for a long moment before answering: “Give me your phone, I’ll give you mine?”

Ecstatic, Prompto nods. Then he’s fishing his phone out of his bag and handing it over, delighted to receive Noctis’ in return. Noctis’ screensaver is an underwater photograph of a fish eyeing a lure. Prompto goes to the contacts app and starts putting himself in.

He only gets two digits out before his phone pings in Noctis’ hand. Prompto’s head shoots up in time to watch Noctis grin.

It’s over too fast for Prompto to stop it. Noctis looks up and informs him, “‘Iggy’ says he’s parked out back. And that ‘in all seriousness’ he recommends you try to befriend me before letting me know how hot you think I’ve gotten.”

Prompto’s a living tomato. He’s so embarrassed he might actually faint. Noctis hands back his phone, then extracts the one from his frozen fingers. Prompto’s still frozen as Noctis puts his phone away and turns to go.

Before he does, he tells Prompto, “Call me.” Then he wanders off like it’s no big deal.

Prompto teeters in place for a moment before bolting off towards the car, made up entirely of adrenaline.


End file.
